


Be Fruitful

by myrifique



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery
Genre: Birth, F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 06:47:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrifique/pseuds/myrifique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anne and Gilbert's first grandchildren are born.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Fruitful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katayla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katayla/gifts).



> Merry Yuletide, katayla! Here is a piece of extreme fluff to counteract the angst in your other gift...
> 
> Thanks to the hippos and searchingweasel for the beta.

"It's been many years since I have had to treat one of my children," said Dr. Gilbert Blythe with a grin as he came into the room where four faces were looking anxiously at him. "Still, I dare to think that I haven't lost my touch. Jerry, come and meet your beautiful children."

"Children! I knew it," Di Blythe exclaimed, clapping her hands. "Oh, Father, are they girls?"

"Two beautiful baby boys," he said. "I suppose we'll have to find them new names, I'm not sure Anne and Diana would do."

"Of course my first grandchildren would be twins," smiled Anne Blythe. "They're my destiny. I've known since Mrs Hammond had her three pairs."

Jerry looked proud enough to burst. "Thank you, Dr. Blythe," he said, the two men shaking hands.

"I should be the one thanking you, son," Gilbert said. "You've made my wife and me very happy."

Jerry opened the door quietly. Nan was laying on the bed, a little pale, a bundle in each arm.

"Hello," she whispered. "Don't speak too loud. One of them is asleep."

"I think I don't even dare moving," he said, standing in awe at the tableau in front of him. He understood poets' and painters' years of fascination with the Madonna, in a way that years of theology had never taught him.

Nan smiled. "You must," she said. "Little Gilbert Meredith wants to meet his father."

Jerry took his son in his arms, feeling very clumsy, very tall. "Don't worry, he's stronger than he looks," said Nan, amused at his awkward movements.

"'Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward'," murmured Jerry, gazing in his child's eyes. 

"Don't write your sermon now," Nan said, laughing softly.

"I'm not," he protested. "But... this is a very holy moment." Little Gilbert seemed to nestle in his arms and closed his eyes.

"Gilbert and John Meredith," Nan said. "If that's all right with you."

"Good, strong names," he nodded. "Thank you." He kissed her. Her eyes filled with tears. "Are you all right?" he asked, worried. "You must be tired, I'll leave, let you rest."

"No, stay," she said. "I'm just worried - how will I take care of two babies? And take care of you, and the house, and-" 

Jerry interrupted her with a chuckle. "Susan has baked enough food to last us until they leave for college. And the nurse is staying with us, and you took care of Rilla, didn't you?"

"Oh, it was so different," Nan said with a sigh. "She was like a doll to me - when I think back on it I'm a little horrified." She laughed. 

"But she grew up just fine," he said, and she laughed again. "Don't worry about a thing."

"Maybe you're right," she smiled. She held little John Meredith closer. 

"You should rest," Jerry said, brushing hair from her forehead. He was already more comfortable with the baby in his arms, holding him with one arm, like he had always been a father.

"I will," she promised. "But before - please send me my mother?"

He smiled and nodded, placing his son delicately in his basket. He kissed his wife one more time before closing the door, still quietly.

Anne entered slowly. Her red hair was streaked with gray, but her eyes were just as twinkling as they had been on every day of "joy supreme" she had felt - moving into her House of Dreams, Pacifique telling her Gilbert would live, her first Christmas at Green Gables, and so many more, the blessings of which she counted when she started thinking for too long of a little cross in Courcelette.

"Oh, my beautiful, wonderful daughter," she said, contemplating Nan. She had been very afraid - not unlike the kind of fear she had felt every time the telephone had rang during the war. But here was her daughter, and her grandsons, and the ghost of Joy retreated. "I hope they make you as happy as my own children made me."

"Oh, Mother," said Nan, tears in her eyes. "I wish I could shelter them always. I think of everything in this world that could hurt them, bumps and bruises and wars and heartbreaks, and me watching from the sides, powerless. And even if they dodge the worst that the world has to offer... they're still going to grow, and they're going to leave."

Anne sighed. She sat down on the bed beside her daughter. She stroked her head, comforting her like a daughter but talking to her like an equal. "Motherhood is very sweet, and very terrible," she said. "That is how it's always been, Eve and Sarah and Anne and Mary, and that is how it should be. Still, I used to wish I could quieten my imagination, on nights of sickness and absence..."

Anne picked up one of her grandsons. The shadow of another war seemed to fall on them, before little John smiled in his sleep, and both women laughed delightedly. Anne started telling her daughter of children’s first smiles and first laughs, of wet kisses and little hugs, and all dark thoughts were forgotten.

* * *

Anne came down in the living room, leaving the new mother to rest.

"I can't believe the poor angel doesn't have anybody to help her," said Susan. "I wish I could stay here to give a hand, but who would take care of Ingleside?"

"Nurse Thompson is going to be here," said Gilbert, "I'm sure she'll help."

"Health is all well and good, but who will bake cakes for the new parents?" asked Susan, like the doctor was hopeless and missing a key component of life.

"I will," said Anne cheerfully. "If you will let me, Jerry," she added with a sheepish expression.

"Nan and I would be delighted," Jerry said, clearly relieved that she had offered.

"Do you mind, husband of mine?" she asked Gilbert.

He sighed before smiling at her. "I only wish I could stay here with you, Anne-girl, and get to know these little boys better."

"But if you leave for too long, everyone will wait for you to come home before having their own babies, and it will be a logistics nightmare," pointed out Di with humor. "I would stay, too, if the New London parents could stand for their children to have an extended school vacation."

Susan had to bite her tongue not to mention a specific New London gentleman. Anne and Gilbert shared a discreet amused look, and Jerry could already hear Nan's joy at the piece of gossip. He started to tease his sister-in-law as Gilbert and Anne retreated in a quiet corner of the room.

"Grandmotherhood suits you very well, Anne," said Gilbert.

"Doesn't it seem ridiculous?" she shook her head with a disbelieving smile. "It seems that only yesterday our own babies were toddling around our house, reaching for us with their little pudgy arms to get a cuddle before going back to play."

"And the day before that, you were breaking your slate over my head in Avonlea school."

Anne laughed. "And now I'm going to be a grandmother for the third time soon," she said, thinking of Rilla's happiness in Toronto.

“I love the grandmother as much as I loved the mother, and the young woman with puffed sleeves, and the college student in Redmond, and all the Annes in you," he said.

Anne smiled. "It doesn't seem so bad, being a grandmother, if you can be a grandfather by my side," she replied.

He laughed and kissed her head. Upstairs, everybody smiled in their sleep.


End file.
